I am a mouse in a land of giants with swollen necks and arms.
They roar at each other and at me in loud voices. I try my hardest, puff up my chest, and roar back, but I run out of breath, and they drown me out every time.
I met another mouse once, in a place called dreamland, but don’t be fooled by the name, there was never a place so real.
I loved her. She had pretty white fur that was well groomed and this pale brown spot around her eye that always made her self conscious, but she hid her anxiety flawlessly. I think I am the only person who ever knew. Of course I never told her, because I loved the time we spent in dreamland, and she might have dropped me off at my home on the ground.
She played with me in the clouds, but what she really wanted was to see the world, and they blocked her view.
Her friends were leopards and worms, and I don’t know if she could see how similar we were. But maybe I am a different creature than she is after all.
I always thought I was a mouse, but having lived so long with giants, I might have swollen into a rat. I wish I could see myself and be sure, but all the mirrors are made for giants and giant mirrors make everything look more massive than it really is. I don’t like to look in them.
Tell me, am I kidding myself? Sometimes I think that I want to be like that little mouse so badly that I pretend.
I’m lying down on a sponge in a giant sink. I’m a little soggy and cold, but I’m trying to rest. They come in and turn on the faucet now and again, saying “don’t sleep now, or you won’t be able to tonight.” But I could sleep all day.
The giants call me now, and it hurts my sensitive ears. I shiver. I worry that one more clumsy foot will make me indistinguishable from the bruised creatures they catch in traps.
Please anyone, don’t let this last forever. Someone come meet me and show me a home where I can be myself. Someone love me enough to slay these fee fie fo fiends and let me rest. Please, someone love me back to dreamland.
It’s funny, how I climb, slipping and sliding out of this hand washing bath to see the giants snoring in the front room. I return to the sponge, hoping my dreams are of her.